


A Clear Shot

by Aricle



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Mass Effect - Freeform, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aricle/pseuds/Aricle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to a masskink prompt<br/>(2010-05-07 07:37 pm UTC<br/>I can really appreciate Shepard' armor in an aesthetic way. And I'm sure some of the crew can too. </p>
<p>So, sex with Shepard's armor. Shepard can be in it or not. Crew can be anyone. Legion is a bonus. )</p>
<p>I started this in 2010 and finished it in 2012. The armour is the Colossus model and a decon room has been added to the Normandy SR1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Clear Shot

Garrus positioned his rifle to have a clear view of the warehouse entry from the bluff, while Shepard and Ashley flanked the main door. Carefully, so as not to knock his rifle off balance, he reclined behind it on the grass of the bluff. He radioed Shepard that he was in position then scanned for prospective shots. 

Shepard acknowledged his check-in and the comm channel went silent. Hackett had sent them out here on one of those missions, since they were in the area. Garrus could tell she was a bit weary of warehouse after warehouse, even as she encouraged the crew to do their best.

He sighted through the scope again to check which of the two was Shepard. Ashley had the best armour due to her training but Shepard had acquired one of the suits Ashley wore during one of those warehouse raids, as a matter of fact. Ashley’s had a higher damage rating but in appearance they were identical. How did those skintight armour outfits- hard to think of them as armour really- provide any protection at all? He was glad for his own sturdy armour- less stylish but it felt much more protective regardless of lacking flashy designs. Red and black stripes might provide some camouflage on the red-bathed landscape of Maji but other than that, it seemed purely ornamental. 

He sighed at his rambling thoughts and focused below, scanning for signs of a threat. Nothing. He settled into an alert state, with his body relaxed yet attuned to his sniper eye and attendant finger on the trigger. 

 

The flashes of red of his teammates’ armour were distracting, as it signaled that he should pay attention to them rather than potential threats. Maybe he should tell Shepard; although she would probably laugh and he would end up feeling uncertain yet intrigued, as usual. Better to ask Kaidan or even Ashley.

He shifted his weight and felt a slight sensation of pleasure as his armour pressed against his groin. Moving tentatively, he found the sensation increased with even a small adjustment. Forcing himself to focus, he scanned below; nothing to see, except… he zoomed in on Shepard then Ashley in turn, looking at the way the armour outlined their figures. Returning to Shepard, he decided that he preferred her figure to that of Ashley’s. 

When did he start evaluating his Commander’s figure while on lookout? He had no answer except the increasing sensation of pleasure in his groin as he observed her body in that armour. 

Repositioning himself again as his growing arousal made it necessary to find a more comfortable position, he found that a gentle press of his hips forward caused his pleasure to escalate. The ground was perfect for both long periods on watch and for, this, with its yielding consistency. Allowing himself to look through the scope at Shepard, he took note of the surroundings through long practice but his main focus was on her figure. He knew he could fire instantly if need be, thus relaxed, pressing his hips against the grass beneath his armour. His erection was at full strength now, and he hesitated as to the mechanics of the situation. It was difficult at best to remove his armour for access, and to do so in the field, with possible action required, was not feasible.

His body decided for him; he moved his hips with more urgency as the friction of his armour combined with the yielding surface of the ground to make him groan. It felt remarkably like the softness of a lover’s body whose muscles supported her frame just so; focusing on the scope, he thought no, not a lover’s body, her body. 

He slowed then quickened his pace to prolong his pleasure. Part of him was still thinking its way through his actions and responses yet he pushed that away for later. His eye was fixed upon the scope now, as he thrust his hips against the earth, and watched her. 

Thought intruded when he had a flair of anxiety as to what he would do if she activated the comm link. The brief lapse of his absorption triggered release and he came, feeling the damp heat in his suit. He continued to move with the pleasure then stopped and lowered the scope for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he grinned at the fact that he had kept his eye on the scope the entire time. 

He was doubly grateful for the concealment provided by the sturdiness of his own armour now; he would have an uncomfortable ride back to the Normandy but it was worth it. 

The whir of the equalization chamber ceased and the Normandy admitted them, with the familiar reminder of XO Pressly being relieved upon Shepard’s return announcing their arrival. 

XO Pressly wasn’t the only one who was relieved, Garrus thought to himself, as he hastened below decks to the small decon room. His unusual speed was noted by Shepard and Ashley with a shrug of shoulders and shared looks of puzzlement. 

Once safely inside the decon room, Garrus sat with a sigh of relief after locking the door. At last he could remove his armour and run it through the unit designed specifically for that purpose. The small shower allowed crew to scrub down while their gear was being processed thus the locking door. 

Removing his gear then undergarments, he stretched his stiff muscles and bundled the articles into the unit’s intake drawer. As he was making a final check for medigel and forgotten articles- running gun oil and ‘gel through the unit was not a pretty sight- in his various pockets, a noise caused him to turn. 

The drawer mounted in the wall slid open as armour was dropped inside then closed as the footsteps of the crewmember faded away. Being as it was common etiquette to run other gear through with your own if it arrived before the process was started, he reached into the drawer to remove the armour.

 

Upon seeing the red and black armour, he stopped with it clutched in his hands. Her armour; that which he had been aroused by a few short hours earlier. 

His first response was to drop the armour in embarrassment; he then picked it up, telling himself to stop being anxious over some armour-- it was a one time incident, one he enjoyed yet had no intention of repeating. He shook his head, reminding himself that it was not as if he had a fetish for armour.

Seating himself on the bench adjacent to the unit, he draped the armour across his legs and began searching the pockets for any left-behind items. She had probably emptied the pockets but the memory of the crew’s amusement at the mess left by medigel and gun oil fused into his armour lining made this an unbreakable habit. 

A small pack of medigel was all that remained; setting it aside, he stopped before rising. He rubbed the armour between his fingers, concluding that the fabric was tougher than it had appeared at first. Perhaps this did provide some actual protection after all. There, see, he told himself, this is armour, nothing more.

The growing sensation of warmth between his thighs told him otherwise. His penis stiffened as he explored the textured fabric with his fingers. His mind again let his body decide what to do, as he gathered the fabric between his thighs. He continued running his hands over the weave, slowly moving in circles around the rise marking his erection. His fingers found his shaft where it pressed against the material and encircled the head gently. Pushing tentatively into the cup formed of hand and cloth, he felt the warm sensation increase. He grasped himself with both hands and began to thrust, moving his hips upward to meet his fingers. The friction and heat increased to the point where it almost felt as if the fabric was moving against him. 

He noticed the medigel packet and tore it open to use as lubricant. In so doing, he ceased touching himself yet the pressure and heat remained constant. Attempting to loosen the fabric to apply the medigel was difficult and he growled in frustration. Looking more closely, he saw that the armour had shaped itself to his penis, which explained why it fit so tightly upon the Commander. The weave had some sort of molding property, which no doubt also increased its damage protection, a fact that he couldn’t care about in the moment beyond enjoying its effect on him. 

After mentally going over the steps for calibrations, his erection subsided enough to allow him to apply the medigel . Before he got to the point of inputting the final figures, he was unable to complete the thought. The medigel soothed the friction of the garment and created a wet heat around his cock. He moved faster as the pressurized armour shaped itself to him again. 

The desire to come and spend himself on the armour filled his mind and senses. He spread his legs apart and rammed himself into the armour, gasping in pleasure. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself with a woman, imagined her whispering his name as he filled her. She had no face or name, all he knew of her was the white heat between his legs, and her body holding him firmly inside hers. His hands pumped along the length of his penis as he felt himself getting closer to climax. With a last firm stroke of hands and hips, he exploded into the armour. 

Clasping the folds of armour in his hands, he pressed the fabric against his torso as he eased himself from its wet friction. Rising from the bench, his fingers caressed the armour as he placed it in the decon unit with his own armour. He closed the unit with a last trace of the armour against his fingers. 

Garrus had made a decision without acknowledging it to himself. His lust for Shepard’s armour had increased to the point of its becoming routine for him to hasten to the decon room after each mission, only to linger waiting for her to deliver her armour to him. His desire was such that he was erect at merely the thought of the armour and his pleasure was short-lived as he came quickly once the armour shaped itself to his thrusts.

He wanted more time with the armour, somehow. He wanted to explore further.

The first glimmer of this desire came to him during a mission. He had Shepard’s six, positioned at her flank as they whittled away the defenses of a Geth Armature. Ashley was peppering the Armature’s silvery hide with fire to prevent its shield from fully regenerating and Shepard was using her biotics to strip it away entirely. Garrus was covering them from the intermittent attacks of Geth snipers and drones. 

Occasionally, the Armature’s blaze would wash over them: nothing their shielding couldn’t handle but something they remained on guard against, for a direct hit would be fatal. Crouching under cover of a defunct vehicle, they edged out for each round of attack, timing it carefully. As the eye of the Armature’s weaponry pinioned them, the wash of its blasts pulsed over them, causing their shields to spark as the impact was absorbed.

Garrus surged closer to Shepard as a drone angled in above them, taking aim at her head. He deflected the drone’s attack with a well-placed shot and an overload of its systems. Shepard fought the drone off with a biotic lift. The force of the lift and the drone’s activation of her shielding caused a wave of sparkling heat to crash against Garrus as it flowed from her armour. The heat encircled his groin and he grew hard inside his armour. The drone descended, still firing at them. Quickly, Garrus unfastened his armour guard with one hand, freeing his erection while still tracking the drone with his rifle. He pressed forward against Shepard, not quite meeting the luscious heat of the armour with his eager shaft. A volley from the drone set her armour shielding alight and the shimmering pulse caressed Garrus’ exposed penis. He groaned and then forced back a cry as she slammed the drone away for good with a full-bore biotic throw. The force of her biotics swirled around him in charged currents and he exploded, his hips bucking, watching as his fluids met the barrier of her armour’s shield and evaporated with an audible hiss. He refastened his armour with a slightly trembling hand, gulping in air as he found cover from the Armature’s renewed attack. 

“Now!” Shepard called out and Garrus tore through the last defenses of the Armature along with Ashley. The explosion sent fragments around them then the ear ringing absence of sound told them the fight was over. Collapsing into the Mako on Shepard‘s ‘All clear!’, Garrus could think of nothing else but the sparks of friction glancing off of the armour and tingling along his length. 

At last, the opportunity had arrived that Garrus had hoped for. Shepard had returned to the Citadel between missions to debrief the Council, giving Garrus a window of time for what he had planned.

The few crew still aboard were either at their stations or in a sleep cycle; there would never be a better time than this one. He made his way to the decon room and collected Shepard’s freshly cleaned armour. Heading to her quarters, he used his omni-tool to decrypt the entrance seal. Sealing it again behind him, he sighed. 

He undressed almost shyly, turning his back to the waiting armour on the bed as he removed his own armour. Stepping over to the bed, he lifted the armour and embraced it, feeling the friction of the weave against his lightweight bodysuit. He lowered his head to the shoulder of the garment, stroking his cheek against it. He drew his talons along the back curve of the armour’s spine, at first slowly then moving quickly, creating small sparks from the shielding. His talons alternately caressed then raked at the armour’s surface and its shimmering heat made his breath come faster. Clutching the armour against his body, he licked then bit at the shoulders, left then right. 

It felt wrong to be in Shepard’s cabin- but he wanted to have proper sex with the armour and this was the only bed aboard the Normandy.

 

Being alone with the armour at last, with its enticing heat and fierce embrace, made him gaze at the armour’s bright markings with desire. He reached down for the zipper of his bodysuit and slowly removed it, guiding the armour across his skin as he uncovered his body. Without the barrier of the bodysuit, the familiar heat and weave was touching him everywhere, had him pressing his hardening cock against the armour’s thighs in an instinctive desire. He ran his hands up and down the warm weave, feeling it contouring itself to his skin as he fondled its curves and seams. Holding the waist of the armour against his hips, he lowered his head to its front, rubbing his fringe along the bodice, the friction causing his scalp to tingle in pleasure. Clasping the sleeve in his hand, he pressed it against his fringe until it began to mold itself to his sensitized skin.

Reaching behind him, he draped the other sleeve over his rear end, pressing the fabric against his hard curves. Almost, if felt as if the armour had him in its embrace- almost but not quite enough. He groped at the armour, moving from neck to waist clumsily. He felt like it was his first time with a girl again, wanting everything at once and not knowing where to put his hands. Probably would be like this with Shepard, too, he mused then chuckled at the wayward thought. First her armour then her. Why stop at merely entering my commanding officer’s quarters and having sex with her armour? He sobered at the thought of her finding him in her quarters and returned his attention to the armour still clinging to his body, where his hands had warmed it. 

Running one hand slowly along the length of it, he supported it at the waist with his other hand. He palmed his hand down the hip and a small charge built up, cushioning his hand. Extending his fingers, he pushed into the fabric and felt the charge flow down his fingers. Moving to stroke the upper back of the armour, he brought it to his bare chest. The friction against his chest plates intensified as he pressed forward into the armour, and he lowered his head to the neck, licking and nibbling the tingling fabric. He pulled the armour’s left leg against his groin, trapping it between his thighs. Lifting the fabric between his thighs, he slid it upward until it met his cock. Gripping the backside of the armour, he wrapped his cock in the fabric and thrust into the taut weave, along the textured thigh and expanse of muscle… and pulled back, breathing heavily. He held the armour before him and it seemed to reach out for him, the shield emitting soft pulses that felt like gentle fingers combing his body. He took it into his arms, met its fingers with his flesh and carried it to the bed.

Lowering the armour to the bed, he lingered to look down at it, while his fingers found their way to the juncture of its thighs. He had never looked down there, always busy with burying himself in whatever fold of armoured fabric came to hand first. Of late, as he had planned this encounter, he had almost feared to look, not wanting to be disappointed. Unaware that he was holding his breath, he stroked and circled then slid an exploratory finger into the folds between the thighs. As he encountered a small protuberance, he exhaled and applied pressure to it. His fingers moved deeper, parting the folds gently as they opened to him.

He straddled the armour and applied lube to himself, eyes closed, the touch of an arm joining his in stroking the slickness along his length then falling away as he took his cock in hand, bringing it to the warmth he desired. He guided himself inside then pressed his body into the expanse of curves and textures. He felt the embrace and the warmth of the contours matching his own, here holding him tightly, there just the hint of a touch, a shimmer of shield. 

His penis was enfolded in the same shimmering grasp as his body, tightening around him as he moved. Burying his face in the shoulder nearest him, he breathed against it in guttural cries. His hips rose and fell in a deeper rhythm and his own heat filled his abdomen. Propping himself on his arms, he thrust faster and felt the weight of his blood surging through him, the twitching of his penis, the pulse in his temple. His balls felt tight against his body as his plates fully relaxed to allow maximum contact and he moved faster. 

Garrus slowed his pace to prolong the sensation, knowing he probably would not get this chance again. Alternating fast and slow pulses with deep thrusts, he relaxed into the sensations of friction and damp heat as he was embraced by the armour. Feeling the first spasms begin in his cock, he cried aloud. His body contracted and the pleasure trickled through him sweetly then cascaded swiftly while he emptied himself, hearing his name whispered in his ear as before. Clasping the warm curves to him, he hugged them as his body relaxed. Sitting up without releasing their embrace, his thoughts drifted as his breathing slowed. He left the bed with a slow caress to the nearest arm to pull on his bodysuit and armour. 

Gathering up the armour, he tidied the bed. Standing in the doorway, holding the armour close, he knew he had to hurry yet also knew he had to say goodbye to this moment in time.

Epilogue: 

The smoke and heat of the wreckage on the Citadel press around them, filling their eyes and lungs, forcing them to take harsh gasping breaths before calling out her name again. Garrus stumbles along in Anderson’s wake, fearing the worst. Tali darts what he knows is a scared glance his way without having to see her face- and he feels his throat tighten as his voice gives out from the filthy air- or so he tells himself. A scrap of red and black catches Garrus’ eye and he fumbles it from the rubble… a scrap of her armour… and the breath is shoved out of him as if he has been struck a blow. Twisting the armour in his talons, he fixes his eyes on the ground at his feet, afraid to see any more pieces of anything else. 

Anderson’s voice rouses him and he lifts his head without thinking and there she is, standing atop a pile of debris, looking like both the best and worst thing he has seen in a long time. He notes the exposed skin of her forearm as he turns to her, the place where the armour was torn from her, and his eyes clear and his spirits lift.

And he kept the scrap tied inside his armour during the long years of believing her dead.

And on the night before entering the Omega-4 Relay, he told her the story of the armour and how the scrap became something like the lady’s token carried by knights of old for him, hoping that she would not laugh at how the story turned out. The ghost of that long-gone day on the Citadel fills his nostrils and the longer-ago day of coming to the sight of her armour on a grassy overlook… and the thought of Ashley, who left behind nothing on Virmire, not even a scrap of armour. How fortunate he is to have both the armour and the woman inside it. They have both lost pieces of their armour and their bodies over the years… and somehow they fit each other. The one who would understand it best would be Legion, patched together with another piece of armour from Shepard, not knowing why he chose it, any more than Garrus knew why he wanted her armour. Sometimes it is okay not to know why, to breathe in air free of death and wake up with someone you love even while remembering those that were lost.


End file.
